


comma cycle

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Five times Kisumai tried to alleviate Fujigaya’s PMS and the one time it worked.





	comma cycle

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for trope bingo (kiss to save the day.)

Fujigaya is, essentially, on his period. Kitayama is certain of it, though contrary to popular belief he’s actually well informed about these things and knows that it’s not physically possible, _but_.

“Ugh, just get away from me,” Fujigaya mutters, and when he shrugs off _Yokoo_ , everyone agrees that there’s a problem.

“I’m telling you,” Nikaido hisses, which is actually louder than his indoor voice (which isn’t quiet at all). “He is worse than my sister on the rag.”

“Internet-san says that men can get them, too,” Tamamori contributes, clearly refusing to say the word ‘period’. “It’s just the mood swings and maybe the body aches.”

All five of them turn to watch Yokoo unsuccessfully tend to Fujigaya, the caring friend that he is, but Fujigaya snaps at him in a way that leaves the others astounded because Fujigaya _never_ takes that tone with Yokoo.

“I am so glad I have a brother,” Senga says with big eyes, looking terrified, and Tamamori nods so hard that his hair flings back and forth.

“What do we do?” Kitayama asks, mildly concerned. “We can’t have him acting like this on TV.”

“Of course you would be focused on that,” Tamamori says crossly. “How about ‘maybe there’s actually something wrong with him’?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Kitayama argues. “He’s just being a bitch. This happens like every month.”

“Further proving it!” Nikaido exclaims.

“Well, you’re the one with the sister,” Senga tells him pointedly. “What do we do?”

“Hell if I know,” Nikaido answers with a shrug. “I stay away from her when she gets like this.”

They all turn to look at Miyata, who swallows. “I guess I can ask mine.”

Kitayama claps him on the back. “Good man. I’ll call my mom and see if she has any suggestions.”

“Oh, right,” Tamamori says suddenly, like he’d just remembered he has one of those. “I’ll ask mine, too.”

“We have _got_ to do something about him,” Yokoo says as he walks up to them, the slam of the door across the room punctuating his statement.

“We’re on it,” Kitayama tells him, but Yokoo just gives him a skeptical face.

“You are the _last_ person who should be ‘on it’,” Yokoo points out, and he’s not wrong.

Kitayama rolls his eyes. “I have to put up with him twice as much as all of you.”

Nobody can argue with that, and when they finish work for the day, the first thing Kitayama does is pull out his phone and call his mother. After she’s done laughing at him, she suggests that maybe Fujigaya-kun is just irritable because he’s tired. He _did_ just finish doing something like five dramas in a row, after all.

“I’m telling you, Mom,” Kitayama insists. “That man has a menstrual cycle.”

“Hiromitsu, dear,” Kita-mama says gently, “if this were a girlfriend of yours, I’d tell you to give her a heating pad and tell her she’s pretty. I don’t think either one of those will help your case here.”

Kitayama makes a face at the thought of telling Fujigaya he’s pretty. “What do I do, then?”

“That’s so sweet that you’re concerned about him,” Kita-mama says, purely teasing, and Kitayama scoffs. “Good luck!”

“I love you, even if you’re unhelpful,” Kitayama says, and he ends the call. Tamamori’s Internet-san isn’t that much better, though, mostly implying that Fujigaya’s spending a lot of time around a female and just picking up her moods. Kitayama instantly dismisses that theory, because Fujigaya tries to avoid girls as much as possible, let alone when there are moods involved.

When they all congregate next, it’s actually Fujigaya who brings it up upon storming into the room. “Which one of you assholes called my mother?”

Kitayama looks at the others, but there are no guilty faces. “Oh shit,” he realizes out loud. “I bet my mom did.”

That has Tamamori paling as well, but Fujigaya has already advanced on Kitayama, folding his arms and glaring. “She wants to get me tested for a _hormone imbalance_ because I’m ‘irritable at work’.”

“That might be a good idea,” Kitayama tells him seriously, and now he’s pretty sure Fujigaya wants to punch him in the nose.

“ _Leave me alone_ ,” Fujigaya hisses through his teeth, staring hard down into Kitayama’s eyes before spreading his glare around to the others. “All of you.”

“You look pretty today?” Kitayama tries, and now Fujigaya’s staring at him with a completely bewildered expression, probably because Fujigaya’s wearing workout clothes with fountain bangs and no makeup, exposing his forehead that’s on the verge of a breakout.

The others won’t let him hear the end of it, but they shut up once Kitayama points out that it had technically made Fujigaya less angry, even if he had shot Kitayama creeped-out looks for the rest of the session. Tamamori had struck out just as much as Kitayama, if not worse, because all he has to contribute is his mother’s suggestion that Fujigaya just needs a hug.

“I _tried_ that,” Yokoo says. “He doesn’t want me anywhere near him.”

“Because he’s uncomfortable,” Miyata tells them, and they all turn to him as he pulls out a long list of numbered items. “The way my sister explained it, it’s like craving attention but feeling really gross at the same time. We have to make him feel better before we can approach him.”

“What is this?” Kitayama asks, pointing at the list.

“Her suggestions,” Miyata says brightly.

Tamamori eyes a few points on the list. “Some of these aren’t really appropriate for a man…”

“Oh, I told her it was for a girl,” Miyata says. “It made her more willing to help, because there’s like a girl-code across the world about this kind of stuff. They all look out for each other, even if they’ve never met.”

“She’s probably just surprised that you like girls,” Nikaido mutters, and Miyata elbows him.

“Taisuke would cut my arm off if I went anywhere near his midsection,” Yokoo says, eyeing the suggestion that says ‘gently rub her belly’. “He’s sensitive enough about that when he’s not like this.”

“This one might work,” Senga says, pointing at ‘give her a bath, but don’t be a pervert’. “We could take him to the onsen or something.”

“Okay, this is what we’ll do,” Kitayama takes charge. “Let’s agree on six things and we’ll split them up—”

“Five, and you stay the hell away,” Yokoo cuts him off, giving him a knowing look.

Kitayama sighs. “Fine, I’ll just supervise.”

It doesn’t take long to pick five and divvy them up, and Kitayama tries not to pout as he helps the others plan their methods of attack. He’s not jealous at all, because he wants to devote his time to stroking Fujigaya’s hair as he sleeps about as much as he wants to make the effort to do…well, anything, really. He just feels left out, that’s all. And maybe he cares a little bit, because a man shouldn’t be so stressed out; they’re just not wired that way. It hurts Kitayama’s head just to watch Fujigaya be so pissy.

It makes him feel a little better when, one by one, they get shot down. Yokoo, whom they all agreed was the most likely to get away with actually touching Fujigaya, took the backrub approach. Being the forward person he is, he just walks up behind Fujigaya and lays into his shoulders. It works for approximately five seconds before Fujigaya tenses up and bites his head off, spouting about being gross and invading other people’s personal space.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Tamamori says under his breath as they watch the chaos unfold. “That Sims game. You can’t get anywhere with another Sim until they trust you enough to let you close. Otherwise they smack you in the face and you lose social points.”

“That sounds difficult,” Kitayama comments. “How are you supposed to get laid?”

“That’s not actually the point of the game,” Miyata speaks up, but before he can elaborate, Yokoo’s returning to them with an exasperated sigh.

“He’s _impossible_.”

Next up is Senga, who sticks with his original idea of taking Fujigaya to an onsen. While Fujigaya doesn’t quite storm out of the resort, he doesn’t relax, either. “He was annoyed the whole time,” Senga reports. “Yuusuke told me that he’s even like this at home, and if we need anyone on the inside to let him know.”

Tamamori takes on the task of shopping, which they had all agreed was a bad idea since Fujigaya is the biggest pain in the ass at any store on a good day and Tamamori has the patience of a junkie. But one of Miyata’s sister’s suggestions had been to ‘buy her things’, so Tamamori took up a collection from the others and let Fujigaya drag him around Harajuku.

“I didn’t even have a chance to buy him anything,” Tamamori tells them after the fact, though he doesn’t rush to return their money. “Everything he looked at, he found something he hated about it. He wanted to leave after a _half hour_.”

“Wow, this is serious,” Nikaido says, and the others nod.

For all of his failures on television, something Nikaido is really good at is shooting. Of course, his only experience is with video games, but Kitayama would probably be a little scared if Nikaido ever got his hands on a real gun—or feel very safe, depending on which way it was pointed. This just means that Nikaido chooses the ‘let her get out her aggression (safely)’ suggestion and takes them all to the arcade, where he pouts Fujigaya into killing zombies with him.

Personally, Kitayama thinks they would have had more luck with DDR, because Fujigaya is a horrible shot and gets _more_ pissed off than anything. After the fifth time Fujigaya has to restart while Nikaido’s still on his first play, Fujigaya just puts down the gun and walks away, cringing at the loud noises and rubbing his eyes as he tells the others he’s going home.

“I don’t know what happened,” Nikaido tells them later. “Shooting zombies always makes my sister work out her rage.”

“I guess it’s up to me, then,” Miyata says, rubbing his hands nervously as he preps himself for their final attempt. Kitayama controls the timing, because Miyata is the worst at reading the atmosphere, and waits to strike until Fujigaya is sitting calmly on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

He looks skeptical as Miyata places the box in front of him, but once Miyata tells him it’s for him, his expression turns curious and a little pleased. At least until he opens the box and instantly turns up his nose. “I can’t eat this.”

“But it’s chocolate,” Miyata tells him. “You love chocolate.”

Fujigaya stares longingly at the box as if to agree, but then Kitayama notices his hand on his belly. “Chocolate will make me gain even more weight and ruin my complexion.”

“Is that what this is about?” Kitayama calls out, ignoring Miyata’s frantic head-shaking as he approaches them. “You are not fat. Stop being so melodramatic and eat the fucking chocolate.”

“I am so not interested in fighting with you right now,” Fujigaya says, sighing as he pushes the box away.

“I’m not fighting with you!” Kitayama exclaims. “I’m trying to fix you!”

Fujigaya just stares at him, blinking and looking incredulous like Kitayama had just insulted him. “I didn’t realize I was _broken_.”

He gets up and leaves the room, and five people move to smack Kitayama in the head at once. “What the hell, you guys,” he grumbles.

“It seems like no matter what we do, it backfires,” Miyata says sadly. “Even when we’re nice and complimentary, he thinks we’re making fun of him.”

“I don’t know what else we can do,” Yokoo says as he looks through the list once again. “He’s bound to be wary of anything we try to get him to do now.”

“Maybe we should just leave him alone?” Senga suggests. “That’s what he wants.”

“That’s _not_ what he wants,” Kitayama insists, but he’s outvoted.

“There was something else my sister said,” Miyata starts quietly, looking more uncomfortable than Tamamori talking about periods. “I left it off the list because I didn’t think anyone would do it, but…”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Nikaido says. “What is it?”

Miyata bites his lip before looking at the wall. “Sex.”

“Not it,” Tamamori says quickly.

“Not it!” Miyata, Senga, and Nikaido follow.

Yokoo sighs and looks remorseful. “He won’t even let me touch his _shoulders_. How am I supposed to get him into bed?”

“Do it when he’s already in bed?” Tamamori guesses. “He may be less likely to push you away if he’s not fully awake.”

“That’s not exactly consensual,” Miyata tells him, looking a little scared.

“You know what?” Kitayama says, nodding to himself as well as the others who turn toward him. “I got this.”

He earns five sets of raised eyebrows and a few laughs. “What?” Nikaido scoffs.

“Don’t ever say I didn’t take one for the team,” Kitayama says, pointing at all of them in turn, then leaves. He has some shopping to do.

That night, he lures Fujigaya to his apartment under the pretense of getting away from his family. He has to promise all kinds of shit like feeding him, not talking to him, and letting him sleep in his bed (alone), and Kitayama just keeps saying ‘whatever you want’. It’s not technically a lie if Fujigaya will want something different later anyway.

After knowing the man for ten years, working too closely together with him and often symmetrically, one thing Kitayama can say with absolute certainty is that Fujigaya likes being in control. It’s not even in a dominating kind of way, at least not in the daylight; he just wants to have a say in what happens to him. In this industry, particularly in a group of such diverse and outspoken people, that doesn’t happen very often.

And being as Kitayama is the one who trumps him most of the time, the one who gets under his skin the most, Fujigaya should be more than satisfied getting to control him for once.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he greets Fujigaya at the door, catching a flash of deer-in-headlights in Fujigaya’s eyes before they harden and narrow down at him. “You’re going to take out all your righteous indignation on me, doing whatever makes you feel like a cocky priss again, and in the morning, you better fucking smile.”

Fujigaya blinks at him as he processes that. “I am not a cocky priss.”

“Right now you’re not,” Kitayama tells him. “I never thought I’d prefer that side of you, but it beats this bitchy bag of emo.”

“I could punch you in the mouth right now,” Fujigaya says evenly.

“You could,” Kitayama replies, “but I can think of better things I can do with my mouth.”

That has Fujigaya grabbing him by the collar, shoving him up against his own door with rage in his eyes, his hands shaking from the force of his pent-up frustration.

“That’s it,” Kitayama tells him, his voice gentle. “Let it out, come on.”

Fujigaya lets him go, his rush of energy disappearing as quickly as it had come on. “I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not,” Kitayama replies, now standing in front of his door to block the way, and Fujigaya gives him an unimpressed look like that will stop him. “Don’t be stupid, Taisuke. I’m offering you something that others can only dream about.”

“What makes you think I even want to do that with you?” Fujigaya snaps. “I’m not a teenager anymore, Mitsu. I don’t need to just have it off with someone I don’t even like to feel better.”

“No, you don’t,” Kitayama agrees, stepping closer. “You need to have it off with me.”

He easily switches their positions, pressing Fujigaya’s shoulders back against the door as he crushes their mouths together, and Fujigaya doesn’t struggle nearly as long as Kitayama had expected him to. His body falls slack and Kitayama only has to lick his lips a couple times to get them to open, Fujigaya actively tilting his head to let him in. Then one of Kitayama’s hands drops down the center of Fujigaya’s chest and right between his legs, groping him so suddenly that he doesn’t have time to freak out about it.

“There you go,” Kitayama whispers as he feels Fujigaya’s cock swell in his pants. “Get hard for me.”

“Oh my god, stop talking,” Fujigaya hisses, leaning back against the door as Kitayama palms him to full strength. “If you’re going to make me do this, I don’t want to hear your voice.”

“Are you sure about that?” Kitayama says, dragging his mouth up Fujigaya’s jaw to his ear, feeling him twitch with each word. “I think your body disagrees with you.”

Fujigaya arches when Kitayama reaches his ear, leaning his head back far enough to bang it against the door. “ _Ow_.”

“Let’s go to my room,” Kitayama says gently. “My bed is really comfortable. You’ll like it.”

He’s one hundred percent positive that Fujigaya will bolt if Kitayama lets go of him, balancing the equally as attentive tasks of walking while fondling. On the way, he distracts Fujigaya with a deep kiss, one that has Fujigaya actively wrapping an arm around him and gradually reciprocating, and by the time they reach Kitayama’s bed, Fujigaya’s taken full control of it.

Kitayama tries not to gloat too much as he’s laid down onto his own bed, scooting up towards the middle and pulling Fujigaya with him. They bump the bag of necessities Kitayama had picked up on the way home and Fujigaya pulls away to look at it, rolling his eyes at Kitayama who just grins up at him as he pulls him back down. Fujigaya fits nicely on top of him, rocking down against him with a faint moan as he learns how aroused Kitayama is.

“You’ll do whatever I want?” Fujigaya asks, pulling away so suddenly that Kitayama’s tongue is still moving.

“Yeah,” Kitayama answers, a little breathless. “Whatever you want.”

“And you won’t tell anyone?”

Kitayama gives him an apologetic look. “The other members already know I’m doing this.”

“Well, they don’t have to know the details,” Fujigaya says, his voice a little ragged, which does interesting things to Kitayama’s body. “Just tell them I fucked your brains out or something.”

Now Kitayama’s raising an eyebrow. “What do you actually want to do?”

Fujigaya doesn’t answer right away, and Kitayama leans up to mouth at his neck to make it easier. He feels a little sympathy toward Fujigaya, who seems to be having a hard time admitting that he wants this, however he wants it. Kitayama has a pretty good idea, but he doesn’t want to make any assumptions. Though it gets more and more obvious with the way Fujigaya’s body falls pliant under Kitayama’s touch and his legs lift to straddle Kitayama’s waist.

Kitayama reaches down to touch him again, this time opening his pants first and making direct contact with his cock, hard and heavy in his hand. Fujigaya pants in his ear as he strokes it, slowly enough to make Fujigaya’s hips snap forward for more, earning a shrill noise that Kitayama wants to hear more of as they pull off each other’s clothes.

“Tell me,” Kitayama says when there’s nothing separating them anymore, and this time Fujigaya shudders from his voice. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. I’ll do anything.”

“Fuck me,” Fujigaya breathes, and Kitayama rocks upward to grind them together. “Bend me over and fuck me just like that, as hard as you can. Make me scream.”

Fire soars through Kitayama’s veins at the words, a low groan escaping as he nods and leans up for one last kiss. “I got you.”

He scoots out from underneath him, leaving Fujigaya where he is as he kneels behind him and rummages through the bag. While he coats his fingers, he notices Fujigaya starting to shake, probably from nerves, and Kitayama calms him with a palm on the small of his back, rubbing gently.

“You look really good like this,” he says, because he can almost see the insecurity twisting up Fujigaya’s face. “I cannot wait to be inside you.”

Fujigaya doesn’t say anything, but he’s considerably more relaxed when Kitayama brings slick fingers between his legs, swirling the first one in. The gasps he makes are beautiful, leading Kitayama to strain his eyes to listen for more as he gradually works Fujigaya open. He gets in a second finger and curls them, looking for his spot, smiling when he touches something that has Fujigaya jerking with a strangled moan.

“Does this feel good?” he asks, and Fujigaya nods. “Do you want me to pound you here with my cock?”

“God yes,” Fujigaya replies, arching his back to push his back end even further into the air, and Kitayama thinks it’s the hottest he’s ever looked, desperate for it but confident in what he wants at the same time. “ _Mitsu_.”

“What?” Kitayama leans down, pressing his lips to Fujigaya’s spine as he keeps fingering him. “What do you want?”

“More,” Fujigaya gasps out.

Kitayama puts in another finger and watches as Fujigaya starts pushing back, shameless in how badly he wants it, and he’s already reaching for a condom when Fujigaya starts whimpering and whining in a way that’s not annoying at all.

“Fuck me, Mitsu, please,” he begs, and Kitayama has to bite his lip as he gives himself a few strokes of lube. “Do it now, I want you, _fuck me_.”

Kitayama can barely get his fingers out before he’s pushing inside, bracing himself with both hands on Fujigaya’s ass, slowly sinking in. They both groan at the pressure, Fujigaya’s hands scratching at the covers, and Kitayama’s breath hitches when he bottoms out. “So tight,” he gasps. “No wonder you got so bad. It’s been too long since someone gave it to you like this.”

“Shut up,” Fujigaya snaps, but his body completely contradicts his words. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“As you wish,” Kitayama replies, rolling his hips to thrust in and out, and Fujigaya’s noises are much more deep and guttural now. “Let me hear you, Taisuke.”

Fujigaya cries out like a switch had just been turned on, volume escalating with each slam of Kitayama’s cock inside him. “Harder,” he gets out.

It’s so much that Kitayama’s mind disappears, leaving him with no coherence and no filter as he leans down, wrapping his arms around Fujigaya and pressing his nose into his back. This changes the angle, making him hit that spot dead-on, and he feels it in every nerve of his body as Fujigaya gets even louder and tightens around him even more.

“Taisuke,” he groans, hands roaming Fujigaya’s chest, fingers finding his nipples and now Fujigaya’s pushing back, meeting Kitayama thrust for thrust. “Taisuke, you feel so good.”

Fujigaya just moans, though it’s near scream level as Kitayama fucks out all of his tension. He can actually feel Fujigaya relax, until the point where he lifts his head and breathes a large sigh, happily accepting Kitayama’s mouth on his neck.

“I’m close,” Kitayama whispers, and this time Kitayama feels that shudder around his cock. “Do you want me to get you off like this or with my mouth?”

“Your mouth,” Fujigaya answers, and Kitayama grips Fujigaya’s hips tightly as he pounds into him, chasing his release. Fujigaya lets out a piercing wail and that’s inevitably what pushes Kitayama over, clutching onto Fujigaya as he thrusts out his orgasm until there’s nothing left.

Fujigaya’s shaking again when he pulls out, but it’s for a different reason this time. Kitayama rushes to throw away the condom and roll Fujigaya onto his back, descending upon his mouth with a searing kiss before licking his way down Fujigaya’s chest.

“Oh god,” Fujigaya gasps, his breath still out of control from their sex. “Mitsu, please.”

Kitayama flicks his eyes up to see Fujigaya forcing himself to look down, leaning up on his elbows with his eyes so hooded that Kitayama can’t see his pupils, but he knows Fujigaya can see him. “You can use your hand,” he says, just before he sucks Fujigaya’s cock into his mouth.

Fujigaya’s noises are a little softer now, though just as urgent as fingers twist in Kitayama’s hair and guide him. Kitayama tongues as much as he can and hollows out his cheeks, swallowing around the head when it gets deep enough, but Fujigaya controls the pace, hips rocking up to make him take even more. “Fuck, Mitsu, so good.”

Flattery gets him everywhere and Kitayama starts actively sucking, sending Fujigaya’s voice into another octave as Fujigaya’s body trembles beneath him. Fujigaya moves him faster, thrusting up into his mouth like he’s fucking and he feels Fujigaya’s cock twitch before Fujigaya’s warning reaches his ears. He pulls back enough to drink it down, licking at the head until Fujigaya swats him away, completely disheveled and breath heaving.

Kitayama’s not much better, not making it very far to the side before he flops halfway on top of Fujigaya, whose eyes are closed and whose face—for the first time in a long while—looks peaceful.

“You were right,” Fujigaya says between gasps of air. “Your bed is comfortable.”

Kitayama is still rolling his eyes when Fujigaya’s head tilts to the side, passing right out cold, and Kitayama decides he doesn’t need verbal confirmation when the result speaks for itself. He curls up right where he is, feeling Fujigaya’s heartbeat that’s still calming down along with his own as he slips away, and in the morning, Fujigaya smiles again.

He’s still smiling when they get to work later, and Kitayama makes it quite clear to the other members that they can thank him in any way they please.

“How did that even work?” Yokoo asks, clearly butthurt at Fujigaya letting Kitayama touch him and not Yokoo. “If the whole point was that he feels gross, you should be the last person he lets near you.”

“Because he doesn’t care what I think,” Kitayama informs them all. “He doesn’t feel gross because he’s not trying to impress me. He _used me_. Like a whore.”

“I just do not understand women,” Tamamori says in defeat, and Miyata pats his shoulder comfortingly.

Nikaido frowns as Fujigaya happily admires himself in the mirror, practicing his kissy faces as he sweeps his bangs from side to side. “Are we sure we wanted _that_ back?”

“Compared to the alternative? Yes,” says Senga firmly.

“Definitely,” Miyata agrees.

“He’s even more pleasant than before,” Yokoo admits, fixing Kitayama with incredulous eyes.

“You are all welcome,” Kitayama tells them pointedly.

They get to work after that, Fujigaya laughing and having fun with the rest of them, and Kitayama can’t help but feel a little proud that he’s the only one who can fix him. They’re not best friends, or even friends at all, but it’s better that way. Kitayama doesn’t have a single problem being used like this for the sake of the group. Or, if he’s had enough to drink, for Fujigaya himself.

And a month later, when Fujigaya starts to show symptoms of discomfort and irritability, Kitayama knows just what to do.


End file.
